


Mind over Matter

by japansace



Series: My Love, We Deserve the Softest Eternity [18]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: + magic, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Elves, Fluff, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Intersex Elves, King Victor Nikiforov, M/M, Mpreg, Queen Yuuri Katsuki, Sick Fic, and lots of it this time around!, i wrote this is thirty minutes dfghjkl;
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:48:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25686814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/japansace/pseuds/japansace
Summary: Yuuri hasneversneezed. Victor has not heard himonce, in the entirety of their relationship, so much as give asniffle.And yet here he was, hunkering down into his sleeve, as yet another bout overtook him.
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Series: My Love, We Deserve the Softest Eternity [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1133426
Comments: 54
Kudos: 275





	Mind over Matter

**Author's Note:**

> This is so ridiculous as a concept, but my brain literally wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it.
> 
> Ages:
> 
> Victor: 4781  
> Yuuri: 4741

It’s easy to get bored like this: six months with child, round and taut as a drum.

Yuuri tries not to consider how much _bigger_ he will get, as time passes on. He’s already cumbersome enough as it is; he’s clumsy in ways he never was before, knocking vials off the vanity, books off the shelves with his ever-increasing girth. He’s gets horribly embarrassed every time—as though it was the very first incident of its kind—but Victor only laughs at him, warm like the sun, and assures him everything can be replaced and not to fret over it.

Well, Yuuri _will_ fret, thank you very much.

It’s what he’s best at.

But still, it’s simply a waiting game now: be patient, be accommodating, try to keep down his food and get as much sleep as he can. It gets _dull,_ after a while.

So Yuuri supposes he should be grateful, when something new comes along.

He’s in the study when it first happens: a sneeze, so kitten-like and _mortal_ that it has even _Victor_ startling, gripping vice-like onto the report he was reading at the noise, eyes growing steadily wide.

Because Yuuri has _never_ sneezed. Victor has not heard him _once,_ in the entirety of their relationship, so much as give a _sniffle._

And yet here he was, hunkering down into his sleeve, as yet another bout overtook him.

“Darling—” Victor rises from his seat, coming to kneel before Yuuri. “—are you all right?”

But Yuuri could hardly bring himself to care about the sneeze of all things, when something else was so fully catching his attention.

_—bread pudding—_

“What?” Yuuri lifts his nose from his sleeve. “What did you say, Vitya?”

Victor’s eyebrows scrunch forward with unease. “I asked you if you were—”

_Chhkk!_

_—toffee cakes—_

“Who is speaking?” Yuuri looks around the room from behind his arm, with suspicious eyes. “Show yourself.”

Immediately, Victor is on edge. He stands, readying himself to defend, but finds nothing behind him—except for the guards of course, who merely mirror his confusion.

He turns again to Yuuri, more concerned than ever. “There’s no one else here, my dear.”

“But I…” Yuuri tilts his head. “I heard someone… speaking of food, I think…?”

“Food?”

“Yes. Bread pudding and toffee cakes.”

Victor looks to the guards. “Is that being made here, in the kitchens?”

“I’ll go check,” one of them says, turning towards the door.

_Chhkk!_

_—go to the gardens, to speak with Mila—_

“Yura?” Yuuri glances right and left. “Is Yura here?”

“No…? I don’t believe.” Victor goes to the window, leaning against the sill. He sees Yura down below making his way towards Woodland’s edge. “He’s out for a stroll.”

Yuuri looks down at his lap—or what he can still see of it, anyway. “I don’t understand…”

The guard slips back in then through the door. “I talked to the cooks, and I’ve confirmed that the kitchen is indeed making pudding and cakes today, Your Majesties.”

“Hn,” Victor considers, a hand upon the chin. “At least then we know what you’re hearing is accurate.” He turns to Yuuri, where he’s rubbing at his face annoyedly. “Perhaps we should pay a visit to the physician…?”

* * *

“Classic sporadic talent engagement,” the doctor says, drawing the cord of her betrothal necklace, absentmindedly, through her fingers as she looks down upon her notes.

Yuuri grips Victor’s hand, from where he holds it between them. “What does that mean?”

She glances up, folding her papers once over. “It’s not a very common occurrence, but it’s been documented in a few cases—most often when an elf is recovering from a serious injury or fighting off an illness. Their talent will engage when they don’t mean it to, often brought on by a specific action or a thought—namely in this occurance, your sneeze.”  
  
“But I’m—” Yuuri pouts. “I’m not injured or ill—”

“In your case, Your Majesty, I think you just happen to be particularly susceptible to the condition.” She rolls a pen, between her hands. “You say you’ve experienced something similar before, yes? When many people are thinking similar thoughts around you and you cannot rein in your talent?”

“Yes, but… that hasn’t happened in quite some time.”

“This is just a theory,” the physician says, “but I think the pregnancy might be acting as a catalyst here. Your body is worn thin from the production of the child’s talent. It may simply be falling back on old coping mechanisms, to get through this time.”

“It’s—it’s not _dangerous_ , is it—?”

“No, no.” The doctor licks her finger, to leaf through some research materials. “Mildly uncomfortable at worst. And I don’t think it will go on until you give birth, if it’s any consolation. Reported cases usually last only hours at a time—a week at the very most.” She looks over at them, a hint of a smirk threatening to break through her professional veneer. “Be grateful you’re not a fire talent.”

That has Yuuri and Victor laughing, a welcome respite to the growing tension.

* * *

_Chhkk!_

_—if I bring it to the potter, it will be as though nothing has ever happened—_

“Someone has broken some of our fine china,” Yuuri says, miserably, into a handkerchief. Normally he would revel in such gossip—as he was often the one with the most of it to share—but there was no joy in it now. He merely wanted his mind to be _quiet_. Was that so much to ask?

Victor sits beside him, resting his hand over Yuuri’s own. “I’ll have them fix it.”

“No need. They’re already on it.” Yuuri rubs at his nose, forcibly. “I hate this,” he says. He hates how petulant he sounds—like a _child_ —but he feels tetchy and sullen, like he deserves a bit of room to complain.

Victor hums, consideringly. He moves his other hand down to Yuuri’s stomach, feeling out the shape of him where their child shifts and kicks, just as restless as their mother. “The little one doesn’t seem to care much for your condition either.”

Yuuri feels his stomach as well, a wry smile coming to rest upon his lips. “Yura never gave me so much trouble.”

Victor laughs at the inside joke. “No, only gave us trouble later, when he reached adolescence.”

Yuuri reaches up, to pat Victor on the cheek. “Just like his father.”

Victor winces. “Don’t remind me—”

“Why? You were such a cute little prince, throwing a tantrum to reach me.”

“It was… a bit overdramatic.”

“A bit?”

“A lot.”

“Mm.” Yuuri leans over, to draw his nose against Victor’s. “I liked your passion then—as I do now.”  
  
“Have I settled down, you think?”

“In ways.”

“Such as?”

“You don’t mouth off to your parents too much anymore.”

“I think that is more a reflection of them than me.”

“Oh, they’re the ones who have grown?”

“Yes.”

“And you?”

“Less so.”

“Is that right?” Yuuri smiles, holds a hand to his stomach where he can feel their child press against his skin. “I hope,” he says, more quietly, “that they find _us_ acceptable.”

“You could ask Yura what he thinks,” Victor teases, then shifts into a softer tone. “But yes. I hope so as well, starlight.”

Yuuri leans back—to settle the knot in his back, that has formed from him leaning over—but keeps a point of contact by holding Victor’s wrist. “Have you thought any more on names?”

“No, I—” Victor colors in the cheeks, which immediately has Yuuri coming to attention. “I just thought… that I would know, when I saw them. I just have a feeling that the perfect name will come to me then.”

Yuuri giggles. “Fair enough.” He draws a hand over his tummy, in broad circles. “And goddess knows they’re never going to be _called_ their name, given your affinity for diminutives. If you had your way, Yura would have thought his name was ‘sunlight’ until he’d reached three-hundred fifty-two.”

Victor chuckles. “You may be right.”

“ _Oh.”_ Before Victor can properly panic, Yuuri looks at him, with hope shining in his eyes. “It’s been a long time since I’ve sneezed, hasn’t it? Perhaps it is over now?”

“Perhaps.”

They sit in the quiet for a while, simply reveling in it.

_Chhkk!_

“Damn it!”

**Author's Note:**

> Considering I had no plan at all going into this installment, I think that went surprisingly well.
> 
> Just one more fic between us and baby! Stay tuned!


End file.
